


eighteen months

by disarmingly



Series: daisuga week 2014 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adopted Children, Established Relationship, Family, Future Fic, M/M, Seasons, first encounter, have some fluff???, i got kinda vague with how i wanted to interpret the 'first encounter' prompt for daisuga week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarmingly/pseuds/disarmingly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they talked about it, it was winter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	eighteen months

**Author's Note:**

> written for the first prompt "first encounter | seasons" for daisuga week on tumblr! I probably should have waited to write this for family prompt day but tumblr user squiduardo gave me an idea and I couldn't say no. prepare yourself for stupid fluff, future fic, and kids. c:

The first time they talked about it, it was winter.

They moved to California after Daichi was promoted to an advertising firm. Some up and coming company with a new branch in San Francisco. They'd been living together for a little over a year and a half, and when Daichi asked Suga to move to the US with him, Suga couldn't help but think of it as a proposal. Without a ring, without a wedding, and without a second thought Suga packed his things and was on the flight that next week. Ten and a half hours of Daichi's iron grip (who knew the steadfast captain of the Karasuno volleyball team was afraid of flying?) later and they were stepping out into their city.

 _Their_  home.

It was another year for the wedding, and another year after that for the talk. Daichi was rising through the ranks of his company and Suga had just managed to land a paying job tutoring middle and high schoolers Japanese in an after school program. Only a couple of hours a week, but it gave him a reason to quit his cafe job down the street from their apartment. He only tutored five to seven hours a week, mostly in the afternoon, so he ended up with way more time on his hands than he was used to. Gave him hours and hours to walk around the streets of their neighborhood in the morning and evening, not really wanting to spend a lot of time in their apartment when Daichi wasn't around.

Too quiet, too big, too lonely.

So he walked, explored, found all the little places he wanted to take Daichi the next day he had off. Making a list of where, who, what. It kept him busy, but as October rolled through and he started in on the sweaters, and November a little too quickly after, followed by December and winter and  _Christmas_ , Suga started to notice the families. The young parents in their neighborhood, trailing after kids in coats too big for them and hats that covered most of their head. It wasn't really  _that_  cold, Suga thought, but seeing the kids bundled up made him smile, made him laugh. Above all else, it made him  _think_ , and the thinking is what got him going from there.

The three days before Christmas and up until New Years, Daichi has off, and while the first weekend is spent in bed making up for what felt like  _months_  of overworking, it wasn't until Christmas Eve that Suga was able to bring himself to mention it.

They were in their living room, sharing a bottle of wine, laughing about old stories of Christmases spent back home in Japan. Daichi mentioned how he needs to remember to call his parents in a couple of hours - they should be getting up to open presents with his younger cousins - and Suga was struck by the domesticity of it all. Of being here, on the couch, leaned up against Daichi's side with Daichi's arm over his shoulder, his own socked feet tucked under him.

Daichi trailed off at the end of some story, something about a dog getting into the cookies and dragging stockings around his house, watching his cousins chase after the animal, when Suga leaned over. Pressed a kiss to Daichi's jaw that quieted him instantly.

Suga grinned.

"Let's adopt."

  

 

Suga called the agency in early Spring.

Because after planting the idea, Daichi couldn't think of anything else. They spent their vacation researching, looking up cost of living with a child in his area, what to buy and what to eat. They looked up the process, read articles about the difficulties for same-sex couples (Daichi refused to believe they'd have to worry about. They were in  _California_ , of all states. This was  _America_  - but Suga had to keep reminding himself, just in case).  They looked at the options - do they adopt a child from home? From California? Should they be looking into other countries or focus on their new home? - and read, and read, and read.

It became something of a hobby for them, with Suga spending his free time at the Library, or on the computer, researching anything and everything he could to help educate them. That night, when Daichi would come home from work, Suga would give him a report on everything he found and the two of them would talk logistics over the dinner table. They discussed age, siblings, if it mattered to them if the child looked different than the two of them (no) or if gender played a part (Daichi wouldn't say it, but Suga knew he wanted a little girl). They discussed location, where the child would go to school when it came to that point and what to tell their families.

They talk about how, if Daichi starts working over-time, they could start to save up. Cut down on their vacation plans, work over weekends. Suga could take up another part-time job up until they were able to adopt their child just to help out with the money side of things. He didn't need that new mattress anyway, and Daichi's suits could hold up for another year or two.

It's late March when Suga calls the agency, and they have an interview first week of April. After that, it's working to get licensed, taking extra hours at work and Suga picking back up his old cafe work, presenting themselves as the best possible candidates and praying there wouldn't be problems.

Which, of course, there were. Emergencies that had Daichi on a plane back to Japan, bad interviews or forgotten paperwork lost somewhere in the stress of it all. More often than not they ended up snapping at each other, Suga noticing how the exhaustion was affecting Daichi and Daichi in complete denial. But there were also good days, great days, where Suga would take Daichi to lunch and they'd talk to their agent and in bed that night they'd look at each other and grin.

"We're going to be parents." Daichi muttered one night, the darkness of their room warm with the promise of summer. Suga's head was tucked under his chin, cheek on his chest, listening to Daichi's heartbeat as he slowly started to drift off. "Parents."

Suga just smiled, tightening his arm over Daichi's waist, and they fell asleep to the sound of the blinds bouncing against the window in the night breeze.

 

 

The first time they see a picture of her, it's the end of the summer, nearing fall, and Suga almost couldn't believe it.

 Their agent's name was Marleen, a hispanic women in her mid-thirties. Suga liked her for her honesty, and her smile, the way she was able to work through these situations with a kind of optimism that Suga could appreciate, could understand how difficult it was to keep up. She had been incredibly invested in helping them find the perfect match for their family, telling them - almost a little bluntly - that she couldn't be happier that her first same-sex adoption was a perfect fit.

 She helped them shape their lives to look better on paper, told them where to go and what to change. There were things that Suga never even imagined would be a problem (talking to his parents and warning them about phone-calls, his friends, his coworkers. There were times where he wondered if they were being investigated for murder rather than trying to adopt, and Marleen had just laughed. "Honestly? It'd be easier to get away with murder"). But Daichi mentioned after their third or fourth meeting with her that he liked her drive.

"She seems just as invested in this as we are." He'd said, his hand in Suga's as they headed off down the street to find a restaurant for dinner. "She makes me feel like this can actually happen."

Suga had just laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Of  _course_  it's going to happen."

 Because they had Marleen on their side, so why wouldn't it?

 But she warned them at the beginning of the meeting, pulling out her briefcase and files she'd started on their case - more paperwork to go through and things to sign - that this was still too early to tell. They wouldn't know for sure if this would be her. But Marleen had still smiled when she reached into her bag and pulled out the picture, setting it down on the table and sliding it across to them.

 Daichi reached for it first, going totally silent as he picked it up.

 The girl was young - just a baby - more blanket that anything as she sat wrapped in what Suga assumed was her mother's arms. The mother was young, couldn't be more than twenty, younger than Hinata and Yachi and everyone they knew from school, and Suga's heart dropped.

 "Her mother-"

 "Can't take care of her." Marleen interjected, reading the worry on Suga's face. "Right now, she's just hoping to find a good home for her."

 Suga looked over at the picture again, then Daichi, who at that point had barely even breathed. His eyes were wide, dark, staring at the picture in his hands so intensely that Suga was thankful it was just a picture. Grey eyes move from Daichi, back to Marleen, who was smiling - obviously noticing exactly what Suga was thinking.

_She's perfect._

 "What's her name?"

 "Sophia."

 Suga squeezed Daichi's wrist, prompting him to set the picture down before he turned to Marleen, nodding once. "What do we need to do?"

  

 

When they meet her for the first time, it's summer.

 Of course there were complications, months of delays because of their gender, their marriage. Suga and Daichi had both been through interviews, calls from religious groups, harassment. It was trying, but at the same time, it brought them closer together. In ways that Suga wasn't aware they weren't already. The license also took time, court dates and meetings with judges and approvals of their living situations.

 They got the call in early August that everything had gone through, Marleen sounding more like a proud parent than anything else, and Daichi had almost dropped the phone. They were supposed to pick her up at the end of the week, be sure to have everything ready, and then Marleen had laughed.

 "You're no longer newlyweds, guys. Go celebrate your last few nights."

 And they did.

 Daichi went to open a bottle of champagne and Suga called the owner of the cafe, letting them know he wouldn't be back. They drank and they fucked and when it was just past two, the two of them laying in bed and breathing hard and covered in sweat, Suga was just able to hear the laugh breaking through Daichi's heavy breathing. Something light and easy and simple, and when he looked up Daichi had the back of his hand over his eyes.

 "It's really happening."

 The next couple of days were spent preparing the apartment. By now, Sophia was thirteen months old; mobile, curious, active (Marleen had been giving them updates as the months had gone on) and their apartment was not yet baby-proof. The extra bedroom in the apartment that had, before then, been a storage unit and guest room for family members was shifted into a nursery, the fridge and pantry stocked with baby-friendly food. A friend of Suga's from the cafe had, just a couple of weeks before, been out to help him buy a crib, stroller and feeding chair (having three kids of her own, she knew what to look for and where to go) and by ten p.m. the night before, everything was set up.

 But that night neither of them got much sleep.

 The drive to the agency the next morning was silent, both Suga and Daichi buzzing with nervous energy. Which, Suga at least was able to accept, was pretty unfounded. Everything would be okay, they were approved. They had everything they needed. And it wasn't like Sophia wasn't going to  _like_  them. Sure, Marleen had prepared them for the fact that she might be a little shy - "She's a child, and has never met you before. Don't take it personally." - but when Suga looked over and saw the white of Daichi's knuckles on the steering wheel, he was pretty sure all it would take was a single look and they'd both break.

 So Suga took a breath, reaches over the console to set his hand on Daichi's thigh, and squeezed lightly.  _Breathe_.

 They make it up to office, somehow, walking through the doors hand in hand at a faster pace than normal. Marleen is there to greet them, grinning the kind of grin that should make them relax, that should be bright enough to ease anyway any worries, but Daichi's hand tenses in Suga's.

 Another squeeze, a few more papers to sign, and then they wait.

 It's ten more minutes before the door opens again, a soft mumble making its way through as the three of them whip their head up in the direction of the door. Standing there is the same girl from the picture, followed by an older woman (probably her mother) who is leaning over to help along a small bundle as they stumble through the door. The two women look up and see Daichi and Suga standing there, and for a brief moment there is nothing but silence.

 But then the older woman smiles, leans down to get Sophia's attention, pointing off towards where Daichi and Suga are standing - not ten meters away from them. Sophia follows the point, seeing them standing there, and Suga's heart stops beating.

 That's when she smiles, and Daichi moves to walk towards her, leaning down to pick her up (without any fussing) and turns back to see Suga with Sophia in his arms. His dark eyes are wet, most likely doing everything he can to keep himself together, and Suga thanks him for that. He turns to Sophia, smiles, and Sophia grins back at him.

 Finally, Suga breathes again. 


End file.
